


Reyes' Dog

by providentialeyes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Age Difference, Begging, Blackwatch Era, Cunnilingus, Light Angst, Masochism, Mentor/Protégé, Non-Binary Jesse McCree, Oral Sex, Other, Power Imbalance, Sparring, Training, Vaginal Fingering, brief dub con followed by consent, wow go a couple weeks without uploading and i forget summaries are a thing lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: Gabe moves his thumbs to spread Jesse open and evaluates, strategizes.Tries to.He’s trying to guess what Jesse would like most, what would be the best ‘reward’ and maybe entice the younger into working to be rewarded again.Yet he finds himself swallowing thickly, thinking about the glimpses of Jesse’s pleasure he’s seen over the last few months.Finds himself wanting to see what would get the loudest responses, what he could do to get the younger to beg, selfishly wanting to taste and tease and-
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Reyes' Dog

**Author's Note:**

> slit, nub, clit, and hole are used for jesse's bits. 
> 
> there's a huge power imbalance here, it's set very early in jesse's tenure at blackwatch and they aren't all that buddy buddy tbh

He had expected a verbal dressing down, added training, harder courses.

Not this. 

Jesse pants hard against the pain, his wrists shoved up between his shoulder blades, Gabe's iron grip on his forearms bruising. 

His cheek is rubbed raw from dragging across the training mat. 

He just couldn't hold his tongue today, and Gabe had brought his own issues into their sparring. 

Taking it out on Jesse, with every biting criticism and rough countermove. 

Jesse gasps as the older man shifts his weight, pressing down harder on Jesse. 

"You done being a brat?" Gabe asks quietly, voice low and rough. 

"You done treatin' me like a punchin' bag?" Jesse struggles to get out, face crushed against the mat. 

Gabe makes a frustrated noise and squeezes Jesse a little tighter. 

The younger swears he feels his bones shifting. 

He renews his struggle against the hold, though he's nearly certain it's useless against the super soldier's strength. 

"McCree," Gabe growls, "Just give up, I don't have time for this." 

"You're the one holdin' me here, you ass," Jesse mutters and stops himself with a pained sound as he's suddenly smothered by all of Gabe's weight, the older man laying over top his back. 

Jesse struggles, panicking against the feeling of being crushed, his shoulders screaming in pain as he tries to pull them free. 

"Calm down," Gabe murmurs. 

Jesse makes a choked sound of confusion, how the fuck is he supposed to be calm while he's being steamrolled by several hundred pounds of his commander? 

"You're fine, kid, you can breathe, you're fine, just focus," Gabe mutters and the tension on Jesse's arms lightens, but they're still trapped between his back and Gabe's chest. 

The older man sighs quietly and Jesse sees his commander's forearms on the mat, just to either side of his head. 

It makes him overtly aware that Gabe is in perfect control. 

This isn't blind anger, and although it may be slightly impulsive, he's certain that his commander has his full mind about him. 

Jesse’s fingers flex against Gabe's chest and he closes his eyes tightly, trying to blank out his mind. 

But all he can feel is the hot and heavy blanket of Gabe against him. 

His stomach starts crawling into his throat at the first pulse of warmth in his gut. 

He feels himself clench, feels himself getting wet. 

Jesse inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut tighter. 

Gabe hushes him quietly and the Jesse tenses.

"Get off," Jesse manages in a strangled whisper. 

"No," Gabe says calmly. 

"Get _off,"_ Jesse repeats, more desperate, "Get off, get off, get off, get off-" 

Gabe frowns down at his agent as the younger is suddenly frantic. 

He lifts himself up but recaptures Jesse's arms, uses his grip to turn the younger over. 

Jesse's face is pink and he very pointedly won't meet Gabe's eyes. 

"... What's wrong?" 

"You were fuckin' crushin' me," Jesse says quickly, voice a little too high. 

"Uh-huh." 

"Christ, just-" Jesse struggles, squirms, tries to shove at the older man's grip. 

Gabe studies his agent for a moment then shifts, moving himself over to kneel, one knee right against the apex of Jesse's thighs. 

It's mostly to just understand what the fuck is going on with his agent right now. 

His answer is the damp heat he can feel even through the training pants. 

Jesse's hips twitch involuntarily and the younger takes a sharp breath in. 

"No, no, no, no," Jesse whispers, nearly senseless, "Please." 

Jesse lifts his arms and tries shoving at Gabe, actually shoving, using his whole body and strength to push the older man off him. 

"Why are you…?" Gabe whispers. 

“I _dunno,”_ Jesse squirms, still trying to wriggle away, but Gabe carefully keeps him pinned. 

Gabe frowns slightly, glancing quickly up at the door before looking back down at Jesse. 

“Hey,” Gabe says slowly. 

Jesse’s wide, feral gaze meets his, scared. 

“... Hey,” Gabe repeats, a little softer, and shifts his hands, grabbing Jesse’s hands and holding them tightly. 

Jesse’s expression crumples, shame overtaking the tilt of his brows, jaw trembling from being clenched so tightly. 

“Jesse, it’s alright,”

“I’m not… I ain’t-” Jesse takes a shaky, sharp breath in then swallows and closes his eyes tightly, “Please don’t tell Morrison.”

“What?” 

“S’not on purpose, I promise,” Jesse whispers quickly, voice gone watery. 

“Why would I tell Jack?”

“You’ve been tryin’ to get me kicked out since I got here,” Jesse sniffs sharply, tears flooding the lashes of his closed eyes, “Now you got a goddamn reason.”

Gabe’s jaw sets crooked, brows drawn together. 

The Commander sits back on his heels, letting go of Jesse’s hands. 

But the younger doesn’t move. 

Gabe huffs and curses under his breath, rising to his feet and pulling Jesse up by his sleeves. 

The younger doesn’t fight it at all, and it’s more worrying when he sees Jesse trembling in front of him. 

“Go to your room,” Gabe says, as quietly and evenly as he can manage, “Curfew starts the moment your door closes. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

—

Jesse tenses when Gabe crowds him into a small utility closet, his commander holding him close with his chest pressed to the older man’s, Gabe’s gun trained on the door. 

“Ping our location to HQ,” Gabe says, barely more than breathing and far too close to Jesse’s ear. 

The younger fidgets before reaching down between them and retrieving his gps from one of the many pockets on his cargo pants. 

He sends the message then shoves the little device back in his pocket, awkwardly letting his hands hover at their hips. 

—

Two things happen in the ten minutes that follow. 

Well, three, really. 

One, the bodyguards of their mark seem to move on from the hall they’re on. 

Two, Gabe tries the door, only for them to discover it’s locked.

Three, Jesse grows increasingly warm… 

Everywhere. 

They have a roughly three-inch grace around them to shift without knocking into the shelves of stocked towels and pre-packaged toiletries. 

The smells of the pine and some too-expensive-for-Jesse-to-name-soap are starting to irritate his nose and he lifts his hand to rub it lightly. 

“Anyone pinged back?” Gabe asks and Jesse can hear the frustration in his commander’s tone. 

He slowly shakes his head. 

Gabe sighs, long and low, letting his head drop back against one of the shelves. 

It pushes his lower body out towards Jesse and the younger hastily tries to take a step back, to get out of the way and not irritate the older man further. 

His heel hits the door with a decently loud thump and he freezes like a sighted hare. 

Gabe curses quietly and yanks him back closer, straightening up. 

Hand clamping tight on Jesse’s waist. 

Jesse gasps quietly, ducks his head. 

It’s been a small goal of his to figure out if SEP enhances lowlight vision, but now is not when he cares to find out. 

“... What’d you hit?” Gabe asks and Jesse’s surprised to hear concern in his commander’s tone. 

“Just my bootheel,” Jesse mutters. 

Gabe’s finger’s on his waist flex then relax as the older man sighs. 

Jesse can’t stop himself from squirming, trying to get a bit of distance between his hips and his commander’s after Gabe reflexively pulled him flush. 

“Stay still.”

“You’re too fuckin’ warm, you G-M-O space heater,” Jesse bitches sharply, old defensive mechanisms seeming to crop up whenever he and Gabe are tense. 

Gabe’s grip on him tightens and he braces, arms lifting slightly, preparing to shield himself. 

But Gabe just shifts his weight, a small, amused huff leaving him. 

“Just calm down,” Gabe murmurs, “Maybe you’ll cool down if you cool your head.”

Jesse scoffs quietly but tries to hold himself still, face uncomfortably warm. 

A smaller, deeper warmth, low in his gut. 

—

Jesse realizes he was being cocky when he coyly took his time getting up after tackling Gabe. 

He should've expected the retaliation, honestly. 

Gabe's pinned him face down, one arm twisted behind his back and the other trapped under himself. 

Jesse closes his eyes and presses his lips together, forcing himself to give in and go limp.

"... You good?" Gabe asks slowly, tone highly confused. 

Jesse never gives up this quickly. 

"Fine," Jesse mutters, muffled by the way his cheek is pressed to the mat. 

"So why aren't you trying to get free?" Gabe asks, a bit irritated, mostly confused. 

Jesse gives a lopsided shrug. 

Gabe huffs and shoves Jesse's arm up harder. 

"Oh that's _right,_ you like this," Gabe says wryly. 

Hears Jesse's sharp breath in. 

"Really, kid, we're meant to be getting you stronger, not getting you off." 

Jesse tenses violently and tries to push himself up, humiliation stinging his eyes. 

"Let go," Jesse whispers weakly. 

"The point of this is that you have to _make me."_

Jesse sucks on his teeth and shakes his head. 

"What do you mean 'no'?" Gabe asks then sighs and shifts his weight, "McCree, this isn't an option, you need to learn this." 

Jesse slumps against the mat again, turning his head to the side to speak. 

“You haven’t even told me what I’d need to do _to try_ and get free,” Jesse mutters. 

Gabe is silent for a moment. 

Jesse presses his forehead to the mat, trying to breathe evenly. 

“Use your body weight,” Gabe says quietly, “Don’t try and overpower me, focus on momentum, that’s your best chance.”

Jesse lifts his head up slightly, turning to look at his commander. 

—

Gabe pauses, somewhat suddenly, panting slightly, hands on Jesse’s hips, pinning the younger to the mat. 

Jesse’s head lightly thumps against the mat with the momentum of his commander rolling them, his heart is hummingbird quick, looking up at his commander. 

Gabe looks over Jesse slowly, evaluating, then meets the younger’s eyes while moving his knee to press between Jesse’s thighs. 

Jesse gasps, barely noticeable between his labored breaths, looking up at Gabe with wide eyes. 

“You want this?” Gabe murmurs. 

“... Why?” Jesse asks hoarsely. 

“Think you deserve a reward.”

Jesse swallows thickly, eyes taking in everything quickly, adrenaline high, _singing._

He presses his lips together and slowly grinds his hips against his commander’s thigh. 

Gabe takes a deep breath then sits back, pulling Jesse’s hips into his lap. 

He doesn’t linger, he doesn’t try to make this more than what it is. 

It’s not tender, it’s not, he swears, it’s absolutely not tender or reverent, the slow drag of his fingers across Jesse’s belly.

Down. 

Tracing the shape of the younger through the thin training pants. 

He cups Jesse with his palm, fingertips towards the younger’s belly button, then moves his thumb to follow the slit to Jesse’s nub. 

Presses against it. 

Jesse makes a small noise, pleasure and discomfort in equal measures. 

It’s good, the touch, but through the fabric it’s just not enough. 

“Sir?” Jesse asks slowly. 

“Hm?”

“Can… Can I choose my reward?” Jesse whispers, hesitant, slightly curling in on himself, expecting rejection. 

Gabe’s head tilts to the side, curious. 

Then the older man makes a low, indulgent sound that goes straight to Jesse’s gut with a pang of warmth. 

“Your mouth?” Jesse asks quickly, voice gone thick. 

Gabe quirks a brow at him looks down at his hand, rubs his thumb back and forth twice then moves his hold back to Jesse’s hips. 

Shuffles backward while pulling down Jesse’s training pants and briefs.

Jesse’s breathing is still quick, but now it’s just a shallow pull in and shaky exhale. 

He bends his legs to speed up the process, Gabe easing the layers down and off his feet, dropping the pile carelessly to the side. 

Then lowering himself to lay between Jesse’s legs, forcing the younger’s thighs wide on either side of his shoulders. 

Jesse can’t quite stifle the small sound that escapes him as Gabe’s hands move to the crooks of his inner-thighs. 

“Eager?” Gabe asks and Jesse feels the warm breath over the slick that’s cooling from the air. 

He hesitates then gives a mental fuck it and nods, closing his eyes. 

“Please?”

“You thought about this?” Gabe asks lowly, watching his agents face for answers. 

Jesse’s lips press together, brows furrow slightly and that’s all Gabe needs. 

Then Jesse nods, but that only tells Gabe that the younger’s being honest right now. 

“Anyone do this to you before?”

A clench of Jesse’s jaw, a quicker nod.

A negative memory, then, or at least a memory with some negative association, Gabe thinks. 

Gabe moves his thumbs to spread Jesse open and evaluates, strategizes. 

Tries to. 

He’s trying to guess what Jesse would like most, what would be the best ‘reward’ and maybe entice the younger into working to be rewarded again. 

Yet he finds himself swallowing thickly, thinking about the glimpses of Jesse’s pleasure he’s seen over the last few months. 

Finds himself wanting to see what would get the loudest responses, what he could do to get the younger to beg, selfishly wanting to taste and tease and-

Gabe glances at Jesse’s face, what he can see from this angle, at least, then leans in and drags his tongue up from hole to nub. 

Closes his eyes tightly, feeling himself twitch against the mat at the way Jesse squirms, at the taste, at the hot and sticky slick on his lips and tongue and God, it’s been so long-

Gabe teases the nub, sucks and traces around it with his tongue, then eases off, moves down, licks into Jesse and lingering there. 

Jesse presses one hand to his mouth but Gabe still hears the muffled whimpers, feels the barely-controlled twitches of Jesse’s hips wanting to rock. 

He thinks about every time Jesse got hot over being pinned and pushed around. 

He moves his hands out and forces Jesse’s knees to the mat, the younger gasping sharply, both at the stretch and the harsh pressure. 

Gabe carefully catches Jesse’s nub between his teeth and opens his eyes to look up the younger’s body to Jesse’s face. 

Sees Jesse’s jaw go lax, his fingers twitch and falter in covering his mouth. 

He toys with the nub for a moment then drags his teeth lightly over it, immediately moving back in and sucking the whole of it into his mouth. 

Jesse whines, weak and needy, panting against his palm before crossing his arms over his head, face buried in the crooks of his elbows. 

“You like that, Jesse?” Gabe pulls back to whisper and nearly groans, watching the younger’s hole clenching in front of him. 

He catches the slick dribbling out with his tongue before pressing his mouth flush and licking as deeply into Jesse as he can. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jesse whispers and squirms against the weight of Gabe’s hands holding him open, “Christ, _please,_ Sir?”

Gabe drags his tongue out and up over Jesse’s nub, slowly, then rests his slick-covered chin on Jesse’s mound.

“Please what?”

“... Can… Can I come?”

Gabe blinks in surprise at the hesitant tone, a small furrow starting between his brows. 

“It’s your ‘reward’,” Gabe says slowly, “... You can do whatever you want.”

Jesse squirms and covers his face tighter. 

“Thought you was just toyin’ with me,” Jesse whispers, voice scratchy and wet. 

Gabe studies his agent for a moment then lowers his mouth to Jesse’s nub again, sucking harder as he moves one hand to press two fingers into the younger. 

Jesse gasps, whines, and squirms, all within a couple of seconds, hips twitching up and his legs involuntarily trying to close without both being held down.

“Please, _please,_ Sir, I-” Jesse’s cut off by a sharp, loud whimper as Gabe gently bites his nub again. 

“Oh, fuck, Sir-” Jesse gasps, breathing quickly, and whining through each inhale, whimpering long and low and wounded, his thigh pressing hard against Gabe’s upper arm. 

Jesse’s hips twitch and he tenses, one hand unconsciously moving down, threading into Gabe’s curls and holding lightly. 

Gabe drags out the orgasm, alternating playing using his tongue and toying using his teeth. 

He keeps going until Jesse is crying softly, weakly whining. 

He slowly lets go of Jesse’s clit and moves down to clean up the younger’s hole, lightly rocking his hips against the mat, trying to get some relief, his cock achingly hard and slowly leaking, pre-cum making his boxers slippery. 

Looking up, with his tongue curling into Jesse, when he feels the younger sit up slightly. 

“How good have I been lately?” Jesse whispers. 

Gabe slowly lifts his head to speak, studying his agent curiously. 

“Why?”

“Amending my… Reward, a bit,” Jesse swallows nervously, but holds his gaze steady to Gabe’s. 

“... What do you want?”

“Can I watch you?” Jesse asks hesitantly, “While you get off?”


End file.
